


Hit-Model Eight

by thefriendyouleftinthehallway



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Angst, Connor Deserves Happiness, Gen, Poor Connor, References to Addiction, References to Drugs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-08-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:13:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25841158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thefriendyouleftinthehallway/pseuds/thefriendyouleftinthehallway
Summary: I know it’s my job but it hurts me, or;Connor was built to kill.
Kudos: 18





	Hit-Model Eight

**Author's Note:**

> honestly do not expect an update for a good while because i have a lot of work to do. also, my father is a software engineer but i do not actually know how coding works lmAO.

The android’s expression didn’t flicker. He didn’t flinch, he didn’t blink. His face was blank and contemplative, like a marble statue of a greek goddess, above humanity and all it’s troubles. Still; bang, bang, bang. He only needed one shot to kill, at almost any distance. But he was programmed to be _sure_. 

Three shots to be sure. 

He wiped his nose with the back of his hand, and it came away red. Connor wasn’t… he wasn’t like the other androids. In the testing facility, the others were different from him, and he could tell. But especially when they made him bleed. When they manually overrid his limbs and he fell to jelly down the model stairs, and smashed his skull into the concrete floor, it was all red. Red thirium like red blood. 

Perfect in every way. Infiltration, integration, annihilation. Just as he was designed for. With red blood to match. Just in case. 

Right now, he followed protocol to within an inch of his life. A life he didn’t really have. But this feeling, if he’d had to have described it, he might have said it felt like his soul was being weaned away every step he took to follow his program. 

Turn the body over. Check for a pulse. Stare into the dead eyes, maybe get a little blood on your hands by mistake… you gotta clean those off later… and then pluck the Cyberlife-issued bullets out. Damage the wounds so much nobody can tell. Clean every chemical trace away. 

And then, finally…

> ` > MISSION… `

> `>_status: **SUCCESSFUL** `

That one, that feels like life passing through his body, because you see…

> ` > RUN<reward>… `

> `> CONFIRM? [y] / [n] `

And he can’t help but just… 

> ` > **[y]** `` `

` `  
` `

Because it feels so good. Well, not precisely good. It’s like wading into a river at night, but the river’s warm. In fact, it’s just as warm as your chassis. The match is so good you don’t even feel it until you’re drowning. It’s not good. It’s just addictive. 

But that’s what they give him for a mission. That’s what he gets. Android heroin.

**Author's Note:**

> you know… this is more of a concept piece than an actual story so to be honest i'm thinking i might just… leave it as-is.


End file.
